


the damned chair

by grumpysimon



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Grieving, M/M, basically all i'm remarking on is that this will make you feel sad but then like sad-happy?, okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpysimon/pseuds/grumpysimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Objects are incredible. Except for this damned chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the damned chair

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm an asshole. newsflash.  
> i'm sorry but this is angst so pleaSE  
> also: note, this was written for my creative writing class so if there is like something that doesn't fit with plot, please tell me??

  


The chair is empty.  
  
  
It was never supposed to be empty, from the moment its’ first uneven and now ancient stitches went in. Now ragged and torn, the victorian-esque fabric presenting unsightly holes. A man stands next to this chair with the same holes in his heart. The chair presents itself with many marks of time, stains of coffee and sagging fabric from all the movie nights that it was sat in.  
  
  
It’s more than funny that the tattered objects in our crowded homes witness so very much of us. The love and the heartbreak, the bad nights and the nights where the the stars shimmer just a little bit brighter for us. But yet they stand, indifferent and alone. Objects are incredible.  
Except for this damn chair.  
  
  
Because he wanted the chair. That ugly old thing, looking like it had dragged itself out of the rubbish bin. But when you’re in love, most would rather be damned than say no. So Kieren didn’t say no.  
  
  
He gave in to the damned chair. Simon had some wild idea for making the bungalow look classic and victorian-esque, (which obviously meant filling it with butt-ugly antiques pulled from alleyways,) and soon the bungalow looked like it should be in some kind of black and white movie, and it ended up smelling like dirt & homeless men. But Simon loved it, and that filled Kieren’s heart up with light.  
  
  
So the chair stayed, probably causing more problems than the joy it brang- including the family of rats that had apparently decided to vacation at the bungalow- and the amount of times Kieren had to patch one of the holes up or attempt to deep-clean it as best as possible; although his attempts were forever futile.  
But for every day that Simon sat in that chair (with that brooding little look of his, no less,) it just became another object in their lives, something constant and filled with flaws, just like everything else.  
  
  
But that didn’t stop Kieren from trying to drag it away a multitude of times during the night- until he was made aware that Simon was faking sleep to catch Kieren trying to take the chair away. And every time, as Kieren was trying to drag it through the bungalows tiny front door, Simon would sneak up behind him. His hot breath in Kieren’s ear with the brush of Simon’s old man sweaters would scare Kieren so awfully, he’d give right up on getting rid of that chair.  
  
But in the end, Simon loved that chair, and in a sour way, Kieren did too.  
  
But now Simon was gone, and it was time to get rid of the chair. Kieren wasn’t taking it with him, too many reminders of too many nights. Silence ghosts parading around an empty house- not a house that was supposed to be empty. This house was supposed to be filled with the noises of two lovers drowning out the rest of an angry world.  
  
  
The sofa had no reminders of him. The sofa was indifferent, brown and ignoring. They’d barely sat in it, only when Simon would play the guitar and Kieren would draw him while doing so.  
  
  
But the chair felt like every time Kieren laid an eye on it, it was attacking him. So he had to get rid of it. But what hurt to very much was that Simon wasn’t going to be here to surprise him and keep him from putting that damn thing back in the alleyway. That was what broke Kieren. He didn’t want even to touch the thing, like he was afraid it would burn him.  
  
  
But the emptiness of the chair and the absence of him weighed Kieren down like a load of bricks sewn to his shoulders. Kieren didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he wouldn’t object if someone had said that he had fallen in love with Simon at first sight.  
  
  
Kieren brushed his hand against the chair, the dust marking his hands; the velvet material old to the point of little texture. The air tasted like him. There wasn’t supposed to be dust on Simon’s chair. He was supposed to be in this chair, flipping through his bible as he did, mouthing things and Kieren watching from the other side of the room, realizing the insane amount of love he had for him.  
  
  
Maybe Simon had loved the chair so because it was old, just like he felt. Kieren would’ve disagreed with with a shout, wishing he could spend the rest of his damned days telling Simon how much he was worth it, how his grumpy old smile made the skies just a bit brighter. Maybe it was just that Kieren was so broken that he ended up loving broken people. He put a shaky hand on the chair, ready to move it.  
  
  
His lungs tightened up. He remembered the first time Simon had told him he loved him, in a night of darkness and the noises of drunkards fading away into the night. The night was the time the two could be who they truly were, beautiful and twisted and woven deeply into darkness.  
  
  
Kieren had told him he loved him back without a second thought, because to hell with it, since it was true.  
  
  
But in the end, he decided to keep the damn chair. And only for Simon.


End file.
